Special Ham
by cliche catastrophe
Summary: One-shot. Carly's Fridge is empty. Sam's a mess. Freddie just happens to walk in.


Sam was sitting on Carly's couch. She was fidgeting, pulling at the edge of the pillow with her teeth. Carly was sitting down next to her, a hand on her friend's back, comfortingly. Sam's left eye began twitching, a sheet of sweat glistened on her forehead. "Be patient, Sam. It's going to be fine." Sam nodded her head, but wasn't the slightest bit convinced as her fingers drummed impatiently on the arm of the couch. Carly watched her friend with worry, trying to analyze the crazed expression in Sam's eyes.

There was a knock at the door and Sam was about to shoot up from her seat. Carly pushed her down by the shoulders, forcefully. "Carls," she yelled. "That could be Spence, now." She shook in her seat, snapping her teeth. The door opened and in walked Freddie, a smile on his face. He looked at Carly and grinned in acknowledgement, and then he turned to Sam. She looked manic, and in pretty much full out mental patient mode. Freddie span on his heel and headed out the door. He was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled back into the apartment by Carly.

Normally, he'd be thrilled by this slight physical contact but he was just focused on Sam, and terrified by the crazy eyes she had that were darting around the room, checking the door, then the clock and then him and Carly. Freddie dodged around the couch and into the kitchen. He took a seat on the stool and ran a hand through his hair, nervously. "Uh," he gulped. "What's wrong with Sam?"

Sam's gaze from the door was interrupted as her head snapped towards Freddie's direction, in a scowl, then she turned back to the door, her knees bobbing up and down. She then began banging her fists on her thighs, her hair swinging around her neck in rhythm. Carly's concerned voice sounded, "The fridge is empty," Carly said, her own evident gulp to match Freddie's. He nodded, and then put a hand on the back of his neck, awaiting some sort of physical harassment on his part from Sam to occupy herself until she gets food in her system. "Spencer's at the store now."

"No." Sam stood up, pointing a finger at Carly accusingly. "_You_ said he was on his way home. _You_ said he wouldn't be long. You did! I was here – I heard you. _You_ said--"Carly hurried over to Sam and put her hands on Sam's shoulders to calm her down. Sam bounced under Carly's grip.

"Yes, Sam. He's on his way. I bet he'll be here in the next minute. Calm. Down." Sam looked around the room, at Freddie, at the floor which suddenly became interesting to her, before she finally raised her head. She turned around and looked at Freddie again. "Got any Fat Cakes Fred-waad?" Sam rushed, with urgency in her voice. Freddie shook his head and Sam growled at him then threw herself back down on the couch.

"It's like she has cold turkey," Freddie mused, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he watched Carly kneel down and rub Sam's shoulder. Carly nearly fell backwards and almost cracked her head open on the coffee table. Almost. As Sam sprung to her feet and ran towards me. I raised my head, alarmed by her close proximity.

"Where's the cold turkey?" She questioned, menacingly as she took a fistful of Freddie's shirt in her hand and pulled him towards her face. Her lip was curled and her eyes wide with anxiety. Freddie shook his head quickly, "Sam," he addressed her in a scared voice. "I don't have any food with me." Sam looked at her fist, her eyes traveling to Freddie's Penny Tee.

"Liar!" She yelled ear-piercingly. "If you don't have any food, then why does your shirt say SPECIAL HAM! Huh? Huh?" Freddie raised his eyebrows, taking a few stumbled steps back into the kitchen as Sam followed suit. "Where's the special ham, dork. Tell me now or I swear I'll punch your girly face right now." There she goes again, taking multiple stabs at Freddie's manhood.

"Sam, I-I-Uh, It's just a T-shirt, Sam. J-just a shirt." Sam stepped back, momentarily confused before she took the end of his sleeve in her fists and yanked the shirt over his head. Freddie was left standing in the lounge in just his black jeans. Sam tore at his shirt with her teeth, but to no avail did any food products magically take its place. She stared at the shirt, trying to will it with her glare to turn into ham or bacon or cold turkey.

Sam spat on the shirt and then threw it back at Freddie. "Have it back!" She yelled and stormed back over to the couch.

"Uh, keep it," He said as he held it up, mulling over the spit marks and torn sleeves. He dropped it down on the coffee table and ran into Spencer's room, rifling through his drawers for a relatively clean shirt. He settled on a slightly baggy striped blue shirt and pulled it over his head as he entered the lounge yet again. Sam glared at his stripy shirt before returning her gaze to the door.

"You must have food in your fridge at home, Freducation? Huh?" She said a tad calmer this time. Freddie gave her a reproachful glance before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I guess." Sam ran to the door, swinging it open. A surprised Spencer tripped over Sam's running foot and he stumbled into the apartment, falling on his front as shopping bags flew in different directions. Sam stopped mid stride in the hallway outside the apartment before spinning herself around clockwise and jumping over Spencer's unmoving body and dived for the packet of smoky bacon. She filled her grinning mouth with meaty goodness and sighed, rubbing her stomach.

"We're fine now Chewbacca," she said soothingly as she patted her belly softly. She smiled contently as she sat down next to Freddie on the couch. Carly was tending to Spencer by waving a sweaty sock under his nose. Sam looked up at Freddie and he was smiling warmly at her. "What?" She questioned, her brow furrowed.

"You," he said. He looked at his arm that was resting on the back of the couch, behind Sam's head and fought back a gulp. Sam tilted her head, confused.

"What about me?" She chewed on a piece of bacon, her head tilted back and her eyes closed in delight. Freddie shook his head, thinking about how unpredictable, overbearing, dysfunctional, erratic and addictive the blonde demon right under his nose really was.

"You're just…" Sam looked at him expectantly, a piece of meat in mid-chew, her eyebrow raised as she fought back a smile. That would just be too un-Sam-like. Maybe it was time to be a little less Sam-like. She bit at her lip before finally letting the smile appear on her face. "You're…Special Ham." Sam chuckled and downed some Peppy Cola.

"HOLY GUCAMOLE." Everyone looked at Spencer with arched eyebrows as he lay splayed out on the floor, Carly hovering over him with the sock.


End file.
